8/11/10
Ecstasy of the Day: Scratchy line-dried towels

I know not many people will agree with me on this one. Even a gal on the Use Half Now campaign’s clothesline revival for 10.10.2010 thinks that you should use electricity and tumble dry towels to make them softer. (http://killingthebuddha.com/ktblog/clothesline-revival/) I couldn’t disagree more.
Towels are one of the few laundry items you have an opportunity to inhale, smell, drink in the aroma of, which you do as you are drying yourself. And we all know that the smell of outdoor-dried laundry is heavenly—reminds me of just being outdoors, being a kid, flowery, airy, free. And we all agree (probably) that any bottled detergent that claims to have the aroma of outdoor-dried clothing is just lying. Heck, even when I lived in Somerville, Mass and hung my laundry on lines of a tenement-style two-decker in a crowded, smelly neighborhood, the clothes came out smelling wonderful. (ok, and try hanging clothes & sheets on those narrowly spaced clotheslines a few times a week throughout January in Massachusetts because your basement doesn’t have the right outlet for your dryer. Makes sheets and towels smell all the better knowing that you’re totally rugged!).
Here’s the thing. Everyone my age is old enough to remember an old-fashioned grandma. Mine was frugal and strict, but bountiful in her way. She washed all her linens in Ivory Snow or Dreft, and hung everything on the line out on the farm where she lived. Most of her old towels had old-fashioned floral or striped prints from the 1950’s and 1940’s. And I’m sure some of those old towels dated from the 1930’s, so worn out from washings that you could practically see through them. Now imagine that you are 3 or 4 years old, and you don’t know what the heck is going on. You have to take a bath at night because you get filthy climbing into the dog house, and grandma runs about ½ inch of lukewarm water (I said she was frugal) into the heavy old clawfooted tub, in which you are like the proverbial fly in a football stadium. As the water drains, grandma wraps you with this cardboardy, scratchy but delicious-smelling old pink towel, and as she rubs you dry, you get all red and the towel melts fondly around you. Grandma picks you up, it's time for bed, your belly is full, all is well in the world. Everyone should have such an experience--using a scratchy, line-dried towel makes it seem like the great grandma of the universe is reaching down into your tub with her great, velvety, linebacker-strong arms and is picking you up with your squirmy, tiny limbs to redden your skin and wrap you and set you firmly and safely in your place.
And aren’t we supposed to exfoliate? Loofahs and those crinoline scrunchies get mildewy if left in the shower. Not so the scratchy line-dried towel. By its very definition it is already clean and ready to go in your hall closet. This herbalist whose stuff I love recommends exfoliating once or twice a day with a natural boar-bristle brush. Rub all your skin, all over, while it’s dry. It enhances the circulation, the skin's ability to keep the body healthy and discharge toxins (through sweat and oil). (He’s at www.herbdoc.com). If you have a great scratchy towel, you don’t need to buy a boar bristle brush, for upwards of $20.00.
But for more than just environmental reasons, more than health reasons, the scratchy, line-dried towel is a rare and perfect ecstasy. We all love when things melt in our mouths, right? Like gradually oozing dark chocolate, wafer-thin crumbling ginger snaps, hearty graham crackers or smooth ice cream. The scratchy line-dried towel melts like that, only on your outside. Its stiff folds meet my body's curves with just the right amount of give. Don’t we love when something softens and accepts us, just as we are? The towel’s nubs scratch and irritate a little at first, then as they absorb water, the towel softens and enfolds us with the most amazing fragrance. Aahhhh.